


Help Me, Sammy

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: Dean’s Soul Mate [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 15:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21164159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	Help Me, Sammy

You were sitting in your car, waiting for your son to get out of school. It was the last week of school, and that’s all he could talk about. He was so excited that he was going to summer camp for two weeks that summer. This year was science camp. Last year was an acting camp. According to him he was still ‘finding himself’, which had you looking at him funny.

Hearing the door open, you were jarred from your thoughts. “Hey, mom.” He smiled, tossing his backpack next to him on the seat.

“How was school?” You asked as he buckled in so that you could pull away from the curb.

He sat back once he was done. “Smelly.” He scrunched his nose. “It smelled like bad feet or rotting eggs. It was _gross_.”

Your stomach dropped. “Rotting eggs?” You asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Nodding, he looked out the window. “Yeah. Maybe something died in there over the weekend.” He gasped dramatically. “What if someone was killed there, and their corpse was hidden in the school?!” His eyes were wide, looking at you.

“Hunter, sweetie, why would a murderer hide a dead body in an _elementary_ school?” You chuckled.

“Why not?” He countered. “Who would ever think to look there?”

You had to admit, he had a point. “No more ID channel for you, mister.”

“Awe, moooooooom.” He groaned. “But the new episode of 20/20 on ID is on tonight!” Hunter pointed out. “How will I ever become a famous forensic scientist if you limit my ability to gain valuable knowledge?”

Sitting at a red light, you looked over your shoulder at him. “Where did you even learn that?” Sure, he was smart, but pulling out sentences like that?

Hunter shrugged. “School.” He told you as if it was nothing.

* * *

That night, after you’d gotten Hunter to bed, you caved. You’d showered, got into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank, and did some light cleaning. Now, you stood facing your closet, looking up at an old box that you hadn’t opened in years. It had been tucked away so long that just thinking of opening it terrified you.

Finally, you reached up and pulled it down. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you moved to sit on your bed. Opening it, a tear rolled down your cheek. Memories of a life that Hunter didn’t even know existed, of people whose names he’d never heard, and numbers of people that you weren’t even sure were alive at this point.

* * *

Both boys were on their stomachs, each in their own motel bed, in deep sleep. Neither registered the phone ringing for a moment, but finally, it roused Dean just enough. Reaching over, he didn’t even open his eyes to see which phone it was. “What?” He groaned, laying on his back. There was a silence, annoying him. “Hello?” He snapped, waking Sam, who rolled to his back and put his arm over his eyes.

“I need to talk to Sammy.” You finally spoke up.

Dean sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Y/N?” He asked. That was a voice he hadn’t heard in years. Not since that night at the strip club. “Is that you?” He furrowed his brows.

You took a deep breath. “Is _Sammy _there?” You refused to speak to him unless there was no way to reach Sam.

“Yeah, yeah…” Turning, Dean saw Sam staring at him. “Here. It’s Y/N.” He said quietly, and Sam heard the pain.

Taking it, he sat up. “Y/N? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked, worried. “I thought the worst when you stopped keeping in touch.”

“Things change, Sammy.” You sniffed. “But, I need your help.”

Sam got up, making Dean watch him, confused. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” He had the phone between his shoulder and ear. He could tell you were upset, and it wasn’t hard to tell you were crying.

“There’s a demon at the local elementary school.” You started, grabbing a tissue and wiping your nose.

He sighed lightly. “Someone call you in or something?” You weren’t ever a hunter. Did someone have some really old information, thinking you were with them still?

Now came the really fun part. “Uh, no.” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see. “I was picking my son up from school, and when he got in, he told me it smelled like rotting eggs. I’ve been in his school plenty of times, there’s no way it could be anything but that.” You weren’t about to add in Hunter’s theories.

“Your _son_?” He breathed.

Hearing that, Dean’s heart clenched. You had a son, which likely meant you were with someone. Following Sam’s lead, he got up to get dressed, trying to wrap his head around this. Clearly something was wrong with the way that Sam was acting.

A few minutes later, Sam hung up, making sure that everything was packed. “She’s about 4 hours away.” He started. “I told her we’d call when we’re close.”

“Why not leave in the morning?” Dean asked, confused.

Sam ran his hand through his hair. “There’s a demon in her son’s _school_. This is the last week of the year, and she’s worried what it could mean. A demon showing up so late.” He explained. “She was crying, and she can’t keep him home, because she has to work.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” He said quietly.

* * *

You napped on the couch, with your phone nearby. Sam had called when they were 15 minutes out, and you told them you’d make some coffee and something to eat. You doubted you’d be getting anymore sleep that night, so you needed it, too.

Just as you put some biscuits in the oven, there was a knock at the door. You quickly set the timer and went to answer it. As you unlocked the door, and turned the handle, you were shaking. There stood Sam and Dean. “Come on in.” You said quietly. It had been nine and a half years since you’d seen Sammy. Even longer since you’d seen Dean. “I just put the biscuits in the oven, so it’ll be about fifteen minutes.”

Neither of them really knew what to say. You looked considerably different than the last time they’d laid eyes on you. When you motioned for them to follow, you turned and went to the kitchen, getting mugs out. Your insides were all knotted up, waiting for one of them to say something.

“So, there’s a demon?” Dean broke the silence.

You nodded as you made them each a cup of coffee. “Yeah.” You sighed. “He said that it was gross.”

Sam watched you, wondering what had happened in the past 9 years. “Anything else you can tell us?”

Chewing on your lip, you placed a mug in front of both of them. “Nothing that sticks out.” You shrugged, moving to get your own before sitting down. “It’s a good school, nothing bad has ever _really _happened.” That’s part of the reason you lived where you did. For the school. “His teachers are great, he has some close friends, and they make it easy for kids to talk to them for anything they might need- extra help, talk about an issue, anything.”

It was weird to hear you talk like a mom. You sipped your coffee, your Y/C/H in a loose ponytail over your shoulder. “Where’s the mister?” Dean asked somewhat awkwardly.

You chuckled lightly. “Uh, my last boyfriend and I broke up about six months ago.” You told him.

“What about his father?” Sam furrowed his brows. “He not around?” All you did was shake your head, silently letting them know that you didn’t want to talk about it.

* * *

Yawning, you looked at the clock. “_Shit_.” You got up.

“What?” They asked, wondering where the fire was.

“I needed to get him up like twenty minutes ago.” You told them. “I’ll be right back.” Rushing through the hall, you jogged up the stairs. “Hunter.” You said gently, shaking him.

“5 more minutes.” He groaned, making you roll your eyes.

You did it again. “Don’t make me tickle you.” You half threatened. “I’ll do it, too.”

* * *

They were sitting at the table in silence when laughter came from upstairs. A couple minutes later, you came down, heading to the cupboard. “Happy kid?” Sam asked.

You chuckled as you got out a bowl. “He didn’t want to get up, so I tickled him. I think he was up watching this special on tv that he’d been wanting to watch.”

“How?”

“By turning on his tv…?” You said simply, filling the bowl with Fruity Pebbles. “He knows the rules- as long as he keeps up his grades, does his chores, and isn’t a little brat, he can keep the tv in his room. Setting the bowl down, you grabbed him a spoon from the strainer to put next to it.

“**MOM**!” He called from the stairs, leaning over.

Sighing, you went to the hall and crossed your arms over your chest. “Yes?”

“I think I need new shoes.” He told you, holding up his sneaker, and you saw that part of the sole was coming off.

“Alright, I’ll stop and get you some today. Just wear your boots or something.” You shrugged.

* * *

It was another ten minutes before Hunter made his way down, his bedhead haven’t been touched. “Mom?” He froze in the doorway. “Who are these guys? I thought we weren’t supposed to talk to strangers.” Hunter pointed out. He’d seen your friends, and didn’t remember them.

Sam stared at him, wondering if he was seeing things. “Friends from a long time ago, baby. Eat so I can tame that hair.” You told him, pointing to the seat.

He looked hesitant, but slowly moved forward and sat down. Once there was milk in his cereal, his eyes looked between the two men. “Why haven’t you visited mom before now?” He asked, curious.

“We lost touch, that’s all.” You lied. “_Anyways_…” You sighed, pulling out a tiny tube of hair gel from your junk drawer. “Care to tell me about that special you watched last night?” There was a smirk on your face, knowing he’d tell you all about it, not realizing that he’d been told not to.

His face lit up. “So, this woman in her mid-twenties went missing. _Completely_ odd circumstances.” He started before taking a bite, your fingers running through his hair. “At first, they suspected the boyfriend, because it’s _usually_ someone close to them.”

You laughed, making him look up at you, wondering why you were laughing. “Were you _supposed _to watch that last night?”

“Oops.” He muttered

“Yeah, oops.” You made him face forward again. “Next time, just record it. We have DVR for a _reason_.”

He ate the last bite. “Can’t. It’s full.” When you stopped moving, he knew you wanted to know how that was possible. “I have the full first season of To Catch a Murderer on there, that tv documentary on the Manson Family, and then some interesting medical shows showing how our bodies react to certain things. I was saving them for summer watching.”

* * *

You knew that there would be a big fight as soon as Hunter was gone. There was no way that Sam or Dean missed it. Once he was on the bus, you took a deep breath and made your way back inside. It didn’t shock you when you saw a very angry pair of Winchesters looking at you. “Can I at least get dressed?” When Sam raised an eyebrow, you groaned. “Fine, back to the kitchen.” At least there you had food to pick at.

“Talk. **_Now_**.” Dean snapped.

Sitting down, you pulled one leg up, your foot on the seat. “Hunter is 9 years old.” You started. “He has no idea about hunting, or anything related to that. He has no idea who the Winchesters are, he has no idea that I ever lived in the bunker, and I’d like to _keep _it that way.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. “You stopped contacting me 9 and a half years ago.” You nodded, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“I can’t believe you two. Especially _you_, Sammy.” He shook his head. “What? You decide to hook up again and bam, you have Hunter?”

You looked at Sam, who shook his head. “We’d meet up now and then over the years.” He told Dean. “Until she stopped contacting me. I _freaked_, I didn’t know what to think, but I couldn’t find her, and I couldn’t exactly tell you.”

“So, my brother and my soul mate were fuck buddies?” He scoffed.

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty.” You glared. “You’re here for a case. Focus on that.” Getting into it with Dean would not end well. “Hunter is none of your business, Dean.” As far as you were concerned, at least.

Sam was staring at the table. “No, but he _is _mine.” His voice was firm as he looked up.


End file.
